


A Twist In Time

by madisondreamson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, POV James, Prophecy, jily, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23855872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madisondreamson/pseuds/madisondreamson
Summary: “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the third month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…” - Cassandra TrelawneyTwenty years prior to the birth of a boy with green eyes, a twist in time would shift the course of events. For the prophecy made by one Sybil Trelawney to Albus Dumbledore on the night she applied for the position as professor of Divination, was now to be made by her grandmother Cassandra Trelawney, twenty years early, on the night of her retirement from the same position. The Dark Lord would rise twenty years early, and now one small detail changed: Harry Potter would no longer be the Chosen One, James Potter would be.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 7





	1. You're a wizard, James

**Author's Note:**

> So basically, a Marauder's story with a bit of a twist eh. I actually really wanted to find a fan fiction like this one, but I guess not many people thought of this, so I decided to write this myself :) Some characters might be slightly out of character from canon, as they are obviously gonna react and adapt to a different chain of events, but I'll try to keep them basically the same.  
> James Potter grows up without magic in this, so doesn't have the same knowledge, or the same attitude towards some things as would do in canon, but he's still a confident, reckless, noble, knight-in-shining-armour, head-over-heels in love with Lily, and hates Snape.  
> As inspired by MsKingBean89 's wonderful fan fiction "All the Young Dudes", Sirius loves David Bowie, and Remus grows up in a children's home, and is also "a bit rough around the edges".  
> By the way, this isn't exact same plot as the Harry Potter books, obviously a lot of things are going to be different. So far, I have decided to keep only these plot elements: the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, adapted to the Marauder's era of course, and the Horcrux hunt, because duh.  
> This is the first chapter (as you can see I am moving at a faster pace than JKRowling, because I really don't have the time or the patience to write seven full books).  
> Hope you enjoy it :)

Prologue: 

Eulalia Parslow was devastated when she heard the news. She had been eating supper with her husband, Cyril, and her three-month-old daughter Cynthia when the doorbell rang. It was Albus Dumbledore.

“My dearest Eulalia, I’m afraid I come with both good and bad news,” he had said. She instantly knew something had happened to her sister Euphemia and brother-in-law Fleamont. And she was right. Dumbledore broke the news of their deaths, and of the apparent fall of He Who Must Not Be Named, as her husband held on to her tight, supporting her. She had not seen her sister for a few months, as the fight against the Dark Lord made it too dangerous. However, she had always been close to Euphemia, despite being a Squib and marrying a Muggle. And now, at the sight of her nephew, James Potter, a sudden wave of protectiveness and determination surged inside her.

“You must take care of the boy. His mother’s last actions were to protect him, and has left a strange kind of magic within his blood. Her love saved him, and as long as he lives with someone of that same blood, he will be protected from harm if and when Voldemort returns.”

Eulalia exchanged a brief but knowing look with her husband. Of course they would take in the child, how could they not?. Dumbledore continued as though he already knew they would agree:

“In the Wizarding World, the boy is bound to become a celebrity, a symbol of hope after war. I am certain you shall be inclined to agree that fame thrust on a child so early in life can do no good. You would do better to raise him as an average boy, let him grow up a normal child before the Wizarding World turns him into a soulless hero.”

“We understand,” said Cyril firmly. “We’ll raise the child as our own, and when the time comes, we’ll tell him. Or maybe one of your fellows, as I certainly don’t know much about magic…”

“You need not to worry Mr Parslow, I will send one of my most trusted friends to tell him,” Dumbledore assured him. “Well, I have trespassed on your privacy long enough, I must be going, I have, ah, affairs to settle.” With a small smile and a twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore disappeared with a ‘CRACK’, and that was the last the Parslow household saw of the Wizarding World for another 11 years.

Chapter 1:

James Potter was the eleven year old heartthrob of St Matthew’s Primary School. He had a large group of mates, and a few regular girlfriends he would go to depending on his mood. His confidence and looks made him loved by his fellow classmates, and teachers, despite his cheek. He was also rather a mystery not only to others, but to himself as well. His aunt and uncle had told him his parents had died “heroes”, whatever that entailed, but no one seemed to know how he got such a perfect lighting-shaped scar. “I survived being struck by lightning.” he would boast to his girlfriends. In truth, he had no idea, and it rather worried him. When he concentrated really hard, he could bring back vague flashbacks of a scream and green light surrounding him, but nothing that made any sense when applied to the world he knew. He also stumbled on some strange powers he had inside of him a few years ago. He concluded that must be how magicians did their tricks, and that he was destined to a career of performing tricks at kids’ birthday parties. Some of these he performed to adoring crowds of students at school, and when he was asked how he did it, he would reply, “Magicians never reveal their secret.” Though mysteriously, when he talked about entering the end of year talent contest to his aunt and uncle, they point blank refused. They had said it would be “dangerous to attract so much attention to himself”. He had sulked for a few days after that, but figured that he could wait to perfect his skills and perform more elaborate magic shows when he was older. All in all, James Potter’s world was practically perfect: he had his two best friends Stephen MacDonald and Mick Baker, the loving Parslows, and his whole future planned. So, naturally, it came as a slight shock when Cyril and Eulalia told him under no uncertain terms that he would be going to a private school next September. He had sat the test in April, encouraged by most, but he had only seen it as a challenge, to find out if he had the level to be admitted to one of those fancy private secondary schools. He had never thought he would ever actually leave his friends behind to go off with some pompous rich boys. Not that the Parslows were poor, or couldn’t afford it, but they had always seemed to express a certain aversion towards private schools, and so James, as well as his cousin Cynthia, had grown up with regular kids and a state school. So why the sudden change of heart, he wondered.

In the last few days of school, after exams, it was common knowledge that James was not going to attend the local secondary. Nameless faces, admirers James reckoned with a smirk, left notes, goodbye cards on his desk everyday, and he realised he would miss this place. Somehow, he didn’t think his new classmates would be all that impressed with the new state school kid.

“Of course, we’ll still be mates right?” Steve asked anxiously.

“Definitely,” James nodded vigorously. “I’ll tell you all about it when I come back for the holidays, and don’t fret, I’ll make sure I get up to a reasonable amount of mischief.”

Steve and Mick both laughed at this, and leaped on him, pulling him into a huge bear hug.

“Oi, get off you tossers, let me breathe! It’s not as if I’m going off to war.” He grinned.

“But we’ll miss you, you great ponce,” Mick said fondly, ruffling James’ untame hair. “Don’t let those toffs get you down.”

James felt a twinge of sadness at this. He would miss them too. Still, there was no getting out of it, and God knows he had tried. This was the last time he would see them before they both went to their grandparents for the holidays, and he went off to grammar school, so he was determined to make the most of it. They hung out at their favourite spot in the park, pulled the vomit prank on unsuspecting folks at the local Sainsbury’s, and ended the afternoon in front of the telly with Mrs Baker’s famous cookies. Cookies, James realised, he would not eat for another few months. He had until the sun set, before Cyril would come to pick him up. He looked out the window to see the sun had already disappeared behind the house opposite. His friends must have noticed because Mick put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and James turned around to look him in the eye.

“Hey, mate, we aren’t going anywhere, me and Steve. We’ve got your back, no matter how far away you are,” he said firmly, glancing at Steve for confirmation.

“Yeah, even if it’s horrible, you’ll have the holidays to see us.”

“How reassuring Steve. Don’t worry it’ll be fine. They’re gonna love you, Jamie, you’re the best.”

He thanked them, managing a small but grateful small before the doorbell rang.

*

Two days later, sitting on the sofa in the living room, James was growing considerably frustrated. He had been given little to no information about the school he would be attending, and no amount of perseverant questions convinced _anyone_ to give him the smallest bit of information. “All will be revealed soon,” his aunt had said, winking. It was driving him mad. What was so special about this school that it required all this secrecy? He was just about ready to go through the enormous pile consisting of all the Parslows' important files to see if he could find something, _anything_ , when he was startled by an owl flying through the window. An _owl_ , would you believe it? And in the middle of the afternoon as well. Strangely enough, the owl had a  letter attached to his foot, and was, upon closer inspection, addressed to his aunt and uncle and  _ him _ . Inside the letter, which was sealed with wax of all things, was a short notice:

_ Anti-Apparition wards have temporarily been lifted. _

_ Professor Minerva McGonagall will be arriving shortly. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _

James froze. “Anti-Apparition wards”, what the hell were those? And more importantly, was on earth was this “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”? Magic couldn’t exist, surely he would have heard all about it. Then again, it sure did explain a lot… A faint memory of James exchanging with a snake when he was at the zoo as a child rose to the front of his mind, as well as all the magic tricks he’d miraculously performed without knowing how exactly. But he didn’t have time to venture any further in this train of thoughts, because the doorbell rang, and hurried footsteps headed towards the front door. Before whoever-it-was could answer it, he leaped out the sofa and practically  _ slid _ across the floor to the hallway, knocking the coat-hanger, and yelled “Hold it!”, feeling incredibly stupid as soon as the words left his mouth, flushing slightly. He held up the letter to his aunt, who raised her eyebrows in mild surprise.

“What the hell is…” he started, but Eulalia cut in.

“If you let me answer the door, you will find out everything, I promise,” she said, and promptly opened the door to a thin stern-looking woman dressed entirely in black robes, her hair pulled back in a bun so tight it gave him a shiver down his spine.

“Minerva McGonagall. I am sure you were expecting me. May I enter?”

Eulalia motioned her in, spun around and looked at James with a huge grin.

“Oh Jamie! Lead our guest to the living room. Tea, Professor?” she asked, to which the Professor politely declined. James led her to the sofa as his aunt went to the pantry to get a box of biscuits. They sat in silence for a few seconds before the strangely dressed woman cleared her throat.

“You seem to have been well taken care of these past few years,” she said, evidently looking around at the family pictures on the wall. “But onto serious matters, I presume you have no idea of why I am here, correct?”

“Well I… I received your letter, and I know you’re a professor, but other than that, I don’t know anything,” he said, as his aunt returned from the kitchen. The woman smiled ever so slightly.

“James Potter, you are a wizard. Your aunt and uncle know this already, but given the circumstances in which you were placed in their care, it was decided you should grow up without that knowledge, as a Muggle as it were, until at least your eleventh birthday. You have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At this school, you learn to use your magic, but also control it. Though we have received information that you have unknowingly used it quite a bit in the past few years. I am certain you will turn out to be a fine wizard.”

James’ mind was racing. This was a lot of information to take in at once.

“Were my parents like me? Is that how come they died?” he asked.

“Yes. You are the heir to two rather noble pureblood families, the Potters, on your father’s side, and the Selwyns, on your mother’s side.”

James looked at his aunt.

“Selwyn, I remember you told me that was your name before you got married to Cyril. So hang on, how come you’re not magic?”

“Magic is an unpredictable element. For reasons unknown to us at the present time, some children whose parents are wizards, are born without magical abilities. Your aunt is one of these people, commonly known as Squibs.”

“And the opposite can happen,” added Eulalia. “One of your mother’s very best friends was born from non-magical, and discovered as you are today that he was a wizard.”

James pondered for a few seconds. Normally, he would be mad at his aunt and uncle for hiding this huge part of who he was.  However, James empathised: evidently, they had been made to keep this from him, and they were there for him all his life, despite not being his real parents. He felt strangely mature for deciding not to hold this against them.

“So. This school. What’s it all about? I mean, I know it’s for magic, but that’s it.”

“Well, that’s a good start, Mr Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. “Of course, I won’t tell you everything. That’ll only spoil the fun. But Hogwarts works the same as any other school: you have regular lessons, with homework, a timetable, and exams. The lessons are of course centered around magic. You will stay in your dormitory at night, and will be able to return home during the holidays. Concerning your school supplies, Eulalia will know where to get them.” She now addressed herself directly to his aunt. “Should you have trouble getting into Diagon Alley, ask Tom, I’ll send him an owl in advance to let him know to help you through.”   
  


*

A week later, James had got used to the idea of being a wizard. In fact, he was pretty thrilled about it. Though he wasn’t exactly sure how his own magic worked, he bet he could pull quite a few elaborate pranks with it. Hogwarts wouldn’t know what was coming, he thought with a smirk.

That morning, James had spent most of his time counting down till 3 o’clock, which was when he would finally be going to this “Diagon Alley”. He spent most of the car ride in an uncharacteristic silence, imagining what could possibly be awaiting him. McGonagall had told him he would “turn out quite a fine wizard”, and James intended to stand out from the crowd, one way or another. However, nothing could have prepared him for what happened when he entered the Leaky Cauldron.

The second he stepped in, all noise, all chatter ceased, and everyone was turned around to look at him. Or gape was more like it. Time seemed to have stopped, until a voice shouted:

“Dear Merlin, why it’s James Potter, our Saviour!”

_ Saviour _ . What on Earth? He had never met these people in his life, yet they seemed to think him some sort of hero. Hell, until a week ago, he didn’t even know he was a wizard. He wanted to stand out, but he wanted to know  _ why _ he was so admired. As Eulalia directed him towards a door at the back of the pub, James couldn’t help but feel like an imposter as every pushed each other to shake his hand, whispering in his ear about “What an honour it is to finally meet you!”.  But then, finally, they found themselves in a small room, away from these admirers, facing a brick wall. James was about to ask to ask what was happening, when the bartender came in.

“Sorry to ‘ave kept ya waitin’. Pub’s gonna be a bloody nightmare now the famous James Potter has reappeared.” He then tapped on some bricks in the wall, and right before his eyes, a whole bustling street packed with people all dressed in the same strange manner. This made him strangely self-conscious, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, with his battered Doc Martens knock-offs.

“Okay, Jamie, we have to go to Gringotts’ bank first. We need to convert regular currency to Wizard Currency.”

As they headed towards the bank, his aunt explained to him how the money worked. It was all rather complicated, he thought, and wondered if there would be Maths at Hogwarts, for the sole purpose of learning to calculate what was due and pay up correctly. Though it turned out, the goblins knew everything there was to know, and wizards generally relied on them. However, as his aunt was gathering information from one of the goblins, James noticed something rather strange. There was a huge, very hairy man talking with the goblin that had shown him to his vault, and they seemed like they didn’t want to be heard. Naturally, that got him curious, so he moved closer, pretending to admire the ornate ceiling, listening carefully.

“Oh, Griphook, by the way Albus Dumbledore sent me with a task. It’s about you-know-what, in vault you-know-which…” the man whispered.

Well if  _ that _ wasn’t completely suspicious and intriguing, James didn’t know what was. He glanced at them in time to see the man take out a piece of paper on which was written “TOP SECRET” (how discreet, he thought sarcastically), and when squinting, he could vaguely make out the vault number as being “713”). But didn’t have time to hear any more, because already his aunt was calling him out. The rest of the afternoon went rather well, he bought all the supplies he needed, tasted some of Florean Fortescue’s ice creams, and found that if he flattened his hair over his scar, no one bothered him much. That must be how people recognised him. Something important must have happened the day he got that damn scar. He resolved to ask his aunt about it as soon as they were finished.

It turns out he almost wouldn’t have had to: he got the gist of it from what the wandmaker Ollivander told him. It just so happened that the wand that chose him had a Phoenix feather at its core, a fact which made Ollivander practically quiver with both excitement and fear. Apparently, his wand had a twin, a twin sold many years ago to a very powerful, and very feared wizard whose name he was too afraid to speak, despite him having apparently disappeared off the face of the Earth. “It is curious, Mr Potter, that you should be destined to this wand, when its brother gave you that scar.”

James Potter was far from stupid. He immediately deduced that this man had killed his parents, and judging by the way everyone acted around him, he, a mere _baby_ , had been his downfall, leaving him orphan with nothing but a scar. This was confirmed by aunt and uncle later on in the evening.  After a bit of convincing, he was able to get the whole story out of them.

“It’s only fair, I suppose… They are your parents,” sighed Cyril. “I don’t pretend to know as much as your aunt does, but eleven years ago, there was a war in the Wizarding world. A dark wizard rose to power, and gathered a lot of followers. Your parents fought against him. They died heroes.”

“The wizard in question decided to go after your parents, and you. I don’t know why exactly, he must have thought you would present some kind of danger, but you were placed under a lot of protection. Still, when he had a target, they were as good as dead. He took both your parents, but when he tried to kill you… Well, no one is sure what happened, but he disappeared. Some say he died, but I don’t believe it.” Eulalia took a deep breath in and looked up at her nephew, tears in her eyes. “He will come back, and when he does…” her voice faltered, but James got the message. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“When he does, I’m gonna avenge my parents and everyone else he killed. I’m going to beat the hell out of him.”

Only one question he had was still unanswered.

“What was his name?”

“Voldemort,” his aunt whispered, before tears came streaming down her face.

That night, for the first time, James didn’t sleep at all.

  
  



	2. Your scars, mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James goes to Hogwarts, and meets three special friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it took me about a week to write it, but I hope it's worth it :)  
> my writing will probably get better eventually haha, but seeing as it's unbeta-ed...

On Wednesday 1st September 1971, James was probably the most excited and nervous he had ever been in his life, if you didn’t count the first time his aunt had let him get a scratch card. He lost obviously, but that didn’t stop him nagging her for the next few weeks. After failure upon failure, he realised that luck probably didn’t exist, not for him. But now, as his aunt led him through to Platform 9 ¾, he felt the luckiest boy on Earth. He was going to learn magic! No more boring Maths or English or, he shuddered at the thought, _biology_. As he boarded the Hogwarts Express, he was almost quacking with excitement, and shouted his goodbyes to his aunt. By some chance, no one had recognised him on the platform, he supposed everyone was distracted by the thought of the upcoming year. Letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he was keeping in, he confidently headed to the back of the train. That’s where the cool kids sat on the bus, so he figured the same must be true on the train.

A mistake, he realised soon after.

In the very last compartment were some particularly nasty looking kids, quite a bit older than him, except for one, who looked about his age and very, very uncomfortable.

“What’s your name?” a rather posh-looking-and-sounding girl asked him. He cleared his throat.

“James Potter. Can I sit here?” he said with as much confidence as he could muster, though he really didn’t want to. There was a collective smirk in the compartment.

“The Potter boy, eh? You’re famous amongst the Wizarding world. Well, come on let’s see the scar.” Before he could speak, he was pulled in, and practically bent over backwards as the girl pushed his hair out the way.

“Bella-” the boy his age started, but was cut off.

“Shut your yap, Sirius. We’ve got the Potter.” And she started laughing, maniacally. James glanced at the boy. He seemed quite scared, though reasonably so.

“Well, well, we have the real deal. What do you think? A family of blood traitors the Potters were, still we might be able to straighten this one out, don’t you think?”

Though James had no idea what she was on about, the “serious” boy got up suddenly and said:

“Bella let go of him, what good will scaring him do?” he spat, before turning to James. “Come on, let’s go elsewhere.”

Bella released him and, glaring at them both, motioned them out.

“You’ll regret this, dear cousin.”

“Sorry about that, she’s a bitch,” said the boy, a few seconds later. “This one’s empty, shall we go there?”

It was strange hearing such a posh-sounding boy casually call someone a bitch.

“Uh, yeah sounds good. I’m James, but I guess you know that by now.”

The boy laughed.

“I’m Sirius Black, heir to the most noble and ancient Wizarding family. Well, for now anyway,” he pulled a face. “Those were my cousins back there, and their cronies. The girl is Bellatrix, she’s a psychopath. Anyway, I must thank you, you’ve given me an excuse to get away from them.”

“Bit of a black sheep huh?”

“Ha, yes. They’re all expecting to see me Sorted into the Slytherin, but that is not going to happen, not if I can help it. Of course, you’ll go to Gryffindor, like the rest of the Potters.”

“Sorry, what’s Slytherin and Gryffindor?” The boy’s face softened, and he grinned.

“Yes, you grew up with Muggles didn’t you? That’s amazing, you’ll tell me all about it, yeah? So at Hogwarts we have four houses, there’s Gryffindor, for the brave and noble at heart. I hope I can go there, though my family have been in Slytherin for the past 500 years. That’s the house for the sneaky, ambitious kids, and most of them you don’t want to be around. Some are decent enough. Then there’s Ravenclaw for the clever kids, and Hufflepuff for the rest.”

James snorted.

“So I don’t want to be in Slytherin then?”

Sirius was about to answer when the door opened to a rather greasy-haired kid.

“Have any of you seen a ginger girl? Small, quite pretty. She’s called Lily,” he asked, before his eyes fell on James’ scar. “Oh, the _famous_ James Potter, I see. With the almost-as-famous Black heir. You won’t be of much use, probably too busy being celebrities.” He sniffed in disdain, and left before they could answer.

“What a tosser,” said James. “Who’s he?”

“No, but he’s probably going to be a Slytherin with that attitude. Come on, let’s get food from the Trolley Lady.”

*

They spent the rest of the trip eating food James had never heard of, and joking around. He liked that the boy didn’t seem to treat him like some sort of god, though he supposed that being the heir to a famous family and what-not he knew how annoying it was. His first friend! he thought happily. They were getting along marvelously, and though Sirius was clearly from a very posh family, he wasn’t that pompous, and definitely seemed down with causing mischief with James. He now only hoped Sirius and he would be sorted into the same house.

The trip from the train station to school was one he wouldn’t forget, the reflection of the castle lights and the starry night sky on the lake being a most breathtaking view. Better than fireworks on the 5th of November. Even Sirius couldn’t help but admire the scenery. Once they arrived at the school, the same professor that had told him he was a wizard -Professor McGonagall- led all the first years to a small room to the side of the entrance. There she made a speech about how they were soon to be sorted into a House, and how each House could win or lose points depending on the students’ attitude. To be honest, James wasn’t paying much attention, as he was too focused on trying not to laugh as Sirius pulled faces at everyone. His demonstration caught the eye of the professor -how could it not- and she shot him a disapproving look, her lips turning into a thin white line on her face.

But then, finally, she led them out the room, and into another _enormous_ room. There were four long tables, with around seventy or so students sitting at each, all staring at the newcomers. But the most remarkable thing about the room was the ceiling, or rather lack thereof. Above their heads, was the same starry night sky as they had seen over the lake. Everyone seemed transfixed by it, wondering what sort of architecture was used to make that possible. That is, until some kid ruined it by yelling “It’s not really the sky you tossers, it’s just an enchantment to make it look like it.”, which broke the spell. They gathered at the front of the room, below where the adults -teachers he presumed- were sat, around an old hat. To their surprise, the hat suddenly broke out into a song, introducing the four houses.

“Silence please. Let the Sorting Ceremony commence,” said Professor McGonagall, once the hat stopped singing. She started calling students alphabetically to come to the front and placed the battered hat on their head. After a few seconds, or minutes, the hat would shout the name of one of the houses, and the student headed to the corresponding table. Soon, his new friend was called up, a slightly nervous look on his face, and James held his breath. Though he probably didn’t have to worry, because after only twenty seconds, the hat yelled “Gryffindor”, and with it the whole room became silent with shock. The boy’s handsome face broke into a toothy grin, and he winked at James, before striding towards the Gryffindor table, which suddenly erupted into cheers. After Sirius, a few more people were Sorted into Gryffindor, “Evans, Lily”, the girl he assumed the greasy boy was looking for in the train, “Fawley, Alice”, “Lupin, Remus”, whose rough, scarry looks made him look quite out of place, “MacDonald, Mary”, “McKinnon, Marlene”, “Meadowes, Dorcas”, and finally “Pattigrew, Peter,” (whose Sorting was excruciatingly long), before James was called to the front. He heard the whispers around the room, but didn’t let them bother him as he placed the hat upon his head. Instantly, the hat started talking inside his head.

_Well, well, well, the Potter boy. What to do? Plenty of bravery and nobility, but I sense some ambition there…_

_I want to be in Gryffindor with Sirius._

_You would do good in Slytherin, you know, you have the brains, oh yes… But no, I think the best path for you is…_

“GRYFFINDOR,” the hat boomed, sending the whole Gryffindor a bout of cheers and applause. James even heard someone _roar_.

“Well done, mate,” said Sirius, slamming him on the back as he sat next to him.

“I could say the same about you,” James grinned.

*

Later that evening, after perhaps the biggest meal of his life, James entered his new dormitory in Gryffindor Tower with Sirius, a small round, shyish boy called Peter Pettigrew, and the rough boy with the scarred face, Remus Lupin.

“Folks,” Sirius barked. “ _We_ are going to be roommates for the next seven. So first of all, we need to determine who snores the loudest, and put them in the bed furthest away from me, then the one who has the worst bladder and put them closest to the toilet.”

James was about to protest, but caught the joking gleam in Sirius’ eyes and snorted.

“How elegant, Potter, _snorting_ , really. Anyway, seeing as we all spent the whole evening stuffing ourselves with food, I think we should get to know each other, and get on a first name basis, seeing as we’re all going to be sleeping with each other’s farts tonight. James, you start.” He winked at James, who rolled his eyes.

“Hi, I’m James Potter, but you’ve probably heard of me. Apparently eleven years ago I beat the shit out of some dark wizard but I don’t remember ‘cause I was in nappies at the time. I grew up with, um, Muggles is it? And Black, _Sirius_ , I do snore, but there’s nothing you can do about it, I’m taking the bed next to yours. Why don’t you introduce yourself next?”

“Oho, well, I am of course the marvelous, wonderful, ladies man, Sirius Black,” he said bowing, or more like _curtseying_ , James thought with a smirk as he tossed a pillow in his general direction.

“Ouuuuuch, Jamie,” he whined. “But more _siriusly_ , I’m the first Black in Gryffindor, and we, gentlemen, are going to rule, no _terrorise_ the school, with our clever and elaborate pranks and natural talent, whether you like it or not.”

Peter Pettigrew groaned.

“But my mum’ll kill me if I get into trouble.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t get caught.”

“If you say so…” he muttered. “Um, I’m Peter Pettigrew, and, uh, I don't know why I’m in Gryffindor, my brothers tell me I’m a wimp. I had to practically beg the hat to put me here.” He reddened slightly at this. James thought he should reassure him.

“The hat put you here for a reason,” he shrugged. “I think it’s brave that you asked it to put you here. Maybe you haven’t had the chance to prove yourself yet.”

Peter practically glowed at that.

“I- yes, I’ll show them I can be brave! Thanks James.”

They all turned to the last boy, Remus Lupin, who hadn’t said a word to any of them, and was sitting hunched up on one of the beds. He looked up at them, and a muscle clenched in his jaw.

“I’m wankered. This really necessary?” he said, in a London working class accent. James exchanged a look with Sirius, whose face softened into a small smile.

“Oh, it’s fine, it was a tiring day after all. You can go to bed. We won’t make too much noise,” he added quickly. Lupin stared at him, almost sneering, before very quickly and suddenly getting up and heading to the bathroom, with his _whole suitcase_ , as though he didn’t trust any of them one bit. James sighed.

“We should go to bed then, I don’t fancy getting on his bad side much,” he whispered. Sirius and Peter nodded, and they each chose a bed each, changing in silence behind the curtains.

 _Wonderful,_ James thought. That one moody kid had made certain that he could sleep unperturbed, by killing the whole. He couldn’t have made it clearer that he wanted nothing to do with them. But then, and James felt a stab of guilt, he had _scars_ from God-knows-where, and he had the same kind of air and posture as the kids from the children’s home in the town next to his. He probably had a rough childhood, but he didn’t have to be rude. Maybe they intimidated him slightly, he thought sleepily…

*

In the next few days, James, Sirius and Peter spent most of their time together. They had had a few lessons, but they were mostly being introduced to the subject and didn’t have any work to do. So, naturally, that weekend, with no work to be done, and having learnt no magic yet, they were growing rather bored. James had suggested Truth or Dare, but none of them had much inspiration when it came to giving out dares, and Peter was scared of getting into trouble. He suggested Never Have I Ever instead, but being eleven years old, they had hardly done anything. That’s when Sirius decided he wanted to try befriending the mysterious Remus.

“Jamie, he seems so _cool_ , look at his _scars,_ and his Muggle London accent. I bet he’s got a whole bunch of fascinating stories to tell.”

“Sirius don’t you think maybe he _doesn’t want to be friends_. I mean, he hasn’t made any effort to talk to us.” In truth, James wasn’t against making friends with him, but he knew they would have to tread very carefully. No, it was best to let him come to them himself.

“Nonsense, of course he wants to-” he was cut short by Remus himself appearing through the door, looking very pale and very weak.

“Oh, Remus, are you ok? Where were you?”

“I’m fine, Black. I… was in the Hospital Wing,” he said, as though the very word was painful. He cleared his throat, and headed to his bed, wincing with each step. He looked at them suspiciously. “You were talkin’ about me.”

He looked at Sirius, silently urging him not to say anything, but Sirius didn’t get the hint.

“Yes, we were. We were wondering how you were, because obviously, you weren’t here, and because you haven’t been talking much.”

James held back a groan.

“What do you care?” he spat. “I don’t need no one worrying about me, and I don’t want some posh toff’s pity.”

“He didn’t mean that,” Peter said quickly. “Uh, we weren’t worrying, we were thinking how you seem cool, and, um, we want to be friends.”

Remus looked very sceptical. James decided to take matters into his own hands, and got up to sit next to him.

“Are you from a children’s home?” Remus eyed him warily. James continued, “I know it’s sort of a rough place to be in, and it’s a eat or be eaten thing.”

“How d’you know? That I’m in a children’s home?” He seemed curious now. James swallowed and chuckled a little.

“Your scars, mate. I bet you’ve been in a fight or two. That and your accent, and your, I dunno, aura.”

“ _Aura._ Not bad, you’re good,” he smiled, almost _relieved_. “Yeah, my parents buggered off, and, er, I have an aunt but she’s ill, so I ended up in a kid’s dump in London.”

“I grew up not far from one, so I’ve seen what it can be like. You don’t have to worry about that here, we’re not gonna do anything to you. If you want to be frien- mates,” he corrected, and extended a hand. Remus snorted slightly, but grinned and lightly punched James’ arm.

“I don’t shake hands, but fine. Mates.” 

“Just with James, or with all of us?” asked Sirius, and James groaned internally _yet again_. Remus turned to stare at him.

“I don’t make friends with toffs,” he shrugged, and got up to go to the bathroom, though James suspected it was to avoid the awkwardness.

“ _Sirius_ , for God’s sake, we have to be careful. You can’t expect someone who’s grown up like that to just open up and be friends with anyone just like that,” he hissed. “I got lucky there, but you have to understand him, and show him you aren’t hostile. Try and connect with him somehow.”

“But I wasn’t _being_ hostile. And how am I supposed to connect with him if he _won’t let me_ , because I’m a “toff”, whatever that means.”

“I don’t know, just find something you have in common,” said Peter. “If he likes the same things as you, maybe he’ll want to be friends.”

James doubted that would be all it took, but didn’t say anything.

*

That night, as James was on the verge of falling asleep, he was rudely awoken by someone tiptoeing past his bed. _Sirius_ , he guessed, judging by the direction they were going. James held his breath, pricking up his ears, and dared peeking out of the crack between his curtains. He was hovering next to Remus’ bed

“ _Lupin,”_ he whispered. “Remus?”

“ _What do you want, Black? Come to grope me in my sleep? Ponce.”_ Remus hissed.

“I want to show you something. It’s, um, important. Can I come in? I’ll leave you alone afterwards.”

Silence.

Then, “Well I’m awake now, so be quick. It _better_ be worth it.” Sirius hurriedly scrambled in, and shut the curtains. James could see a small light, from a torch perhaps, through the crack between Remus’ curtains, but couldn’t see what was going on behind them.

“Why are you showin’ me this?” Remus whispered. But he didn’t sound accusatory, or annoyed, only… sad.

“To show you I understand. I’ve… It’s been hard on me too.”

Silence again.

“I’m sorry,” said Remus eventually. “It- I wasn’t being a mean sod on purpose earlier. We can be mates too if you want.”

 _Bloody hell, well done Black,_ thought James. What had he shown the boy to earn his sympathy so quickly? That was his last thought before dozing off.

*

“Remus, where are you going?” asked James. It was a Sunday evening, they had just finished their meal, when James noticed Remus had started turning in another corridor.

“What’s it to you?”

“Well, you said we were mates, and mates are supposed to worry.”

Remus stopped and sighed.

“I… I’m s’pposed to visit my, er, aunt, the sick one. But it’s supposed to be secret, ‘cause you know, privilege and all that.”

“Oh, well, bon voyage,” said Sirius, earning him a strange look from the even stranger boy.

They walked back to their dorm in silence, as though afraid Remus could still somehow hear them.

“I call bollocks,” said James as he flopped down on his bed. “I don't know what he’s doing, but he’s _not_ seeing his sick aunt.”

“Well, what is he doing do you think?” asked Peter.

“Maybe he doesn’t feel well… The Hospital Wing is that way I think.” said Sirius.

“That’s a possibility… I don’t think so though, I reckon he wouldn’t lie for something like that. But he’s not seeing an aunt, because if it _is_ supposed to be secret, then he would have hidden it. Somehow I find him revealing this “secret” so naturally out of character.”

“If he’s hiding it, there has to be a good reason, right? Maybe we should leave it. You’re the one who said we had to tread carefully,” piped up Peter.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m telling you this _now_ , because he can’t hear us. Let’s just go along with the lie.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Sirius muttered absent-mindedly. “But maybe we can find out without him knowing somehow…”

James doubted that; with his calculating stares, he’d likely know as soon as they found out. It was possibly worth a try once Remus lowered his guard, but if he did, James would feel uncomfortable hiding something like that from him. In any case, now was neither the time nor the place to be leading such an investigation, though he couldn’t help but ponder what it might be all about.

That night, James dreamt that he, Sirius, Remus and his friends back at home. Sirius kept shouting “full house” every so often, with no apparent reason. When asked to stop, he said it was a warning, and Remus dissolved into tears, before the dream faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well well well, I hope you enjoyed this :)  
> vocab: a toff is a rich person  
> a tosser here is used to mean idiot  
> wandered means tired  
> to bugger off is to leave  
> a ponce means a gay person, it's not very nice  
> bollocks means testicules, or in this case bullshit

**Author's Note:**

> and voilà!


End file.
